


5 Times Simon Lewis Deserved the World, and the 1 Time He Has It

by Bagell



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Universe, Let Simon Lewis have a Capri-Sun, also i have never watched twilight, but if you must know it's set like a few months after they probably find clary, idk man there are so many plot holes in this, nothing makes sense in context but shhhhh, simon lewis deserves happiness, the sh timeline doesn't exist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 23:52:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bagell/pseuds/Bagell
Summary: And holding him, right now, in an unheard of club in the middle of Spain, their friends by their side going through the same healing process, she wants him to know too.He deserves the world.-In the past few months, Simon has been everything for everyone else.It takes six people for him to let go, and those same six people for him to let himself be him, even if just for a few hours.





	5 Times Simon Lewis Deserved the World, and the 1 Time He Has It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alistoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alistoney/gifts).



> happy birthday alistoney!!!!
> 
> this is for one of the coolest people on earth, who i hope has had the BEST day so far (and the best day tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and so on and so forth until forever). it's also for someone who gushed endlessly and adorably about simon lewis when (subtly) asked who her favorite underrated character was.
> 
> love you, hope you enjoy this angel! hbd!
> 
> (thank you to lacey and ash for being my twilight/edward cullen dick info sources)

1\. Dancing

Maia’s throwing her head back, curls bobbing in her pigtails as Magnus spins her fast, and she goes twirling directly into Simon’s chest. She laughs, hard, breathing him in.

She’s tipsy, but she feels drunk out of her mind on happiness, giddiness that she hasn’t felt in months. She stays a moment, glorying in the moment before locking onto her boyfriend’s eyes and somehow sinking and floating in that moment at what she finds there.

It’s not so much the color and appearance that takes her away every time, though Maia truly believes they’re the most enchanting eyes in the world, but the depth and the way pupils bore into her soul.

Pupils. Holes. Maybe that’s why it feels like love is coming through and into her.

She brings her hands up, pushing their lips together insistently, hastily, and breaks out of her reverie at his smushed and surprised laugh. But he doesn’t push her away. He grabs her hands and tips her, kissing deeper, harder and Maia sighs, drunk and happy.

When they pull away, years later probably, it takes Maia a minute to remember herself. Then she’s pulling Simon, slurring her words as she murmurs something along the lines of, “Dance with us!”

She urges Magnus to bring Alec in too, and then they’re mobbed together in the crowd at this random club in Spain, bodies moving in tandem, nonsensical laughs and screams filling the air in their little bubble.

Any other night, Magnus and Maia would be twirling, undulating and moving around each other, winking at their boyfriends but tonight. Oh, tonight.

Tonight is Simon’s gift and Maia’s promised to just enjoy herself fully and completely.

She closes her eyes behind flashing lights and lets herself melt, be swept away in remembering, focusing on Simon’s hands and presence with her.

It had been a hard couple of months. But through it all, Simon was there, and Maia remained strong. She broke down, more times than she’d like to admit, but she stood, taller. And Simon finally ended up convincing her to let him send Jordan away, and Simon was there for her in the aftermath. 

She knows he’s hurting right now though. So much. She knows because she’d gone through the same thing and she can’t imagine ever experiencing it again.

But he had insisted that they take this night and it has been the best. It’s all she’s needed for the past five months.

So she holds Simon close, breaths him in, wraps arms around his waist and holds him.

Because this night, and Simon in all his dorky, completely earnest glory, has helped her stand on her own two feet. Has helped her realize she’s allowed to rely on him, that she can be stronger as an individual when she does.

He’s helped her realize it’s gonna be okay, that it  _ is _ okay.

And holding him, right now, in an unheard of club in the middle of Spain, their friends by their side going through the same healing process, she wants him to know too.

He deserves the world.

 

2\. Preschool

Raphael looks up when the door to the preschool opens, Simon stepping in shyly.

He’s dressed in a warm, talc green jacket over a cream shirt, hands tucked into pockets.

Simon’s gazing around, warily, awkwardly, curiously, as he always does, and Raphael finds himself caught between a snort and a fond laugh at the realization that maybe it’s not Simon being a baby vampire, but just Simon being Simon.

When his eyes finally find Raphael’s his eyebrows shoot up, hand coming up in a friendly wave. “Hey man.”

Raphael is sitting on the floor, tiny kids crawling and playing around him. Toddlers, bordering on babies really. One is settled half in his lap, sleepily leaning onto his chest. It’s early morning, and Tina is tired. Raphael is bottle feeding her.

He can see Simon watching, clearly trying to stop himself from cooing at the sight and he snorts out loud.

“Come sit,” he says, voice hushed so he doesn’t jostle Tina. He pats the space next to him and Simon hangs his jacket on one of the hooks next to the cubbies. He settles next to Raph, Caleb, a two year old, immediately crawling over curiously.

Simon looks at Caleb, then back at Raphael. Raphael rolls his eyes. “Go ahead,” he gestures to the kid and Simon lights up, tentatively putting his arms out. At Caleb’s delighted eyes, he hoists the child into the air, bouncing his tiny body by the armpits with his comparatively giant hands.

Raphael and Simon sit (and play) in silence for awhile, Raphael always watching Simon softly. 

“Thank you,” he finally says.

Simon’s head turns toward him, confused and quietly surprised. When Raphael doesn’t continue, Simon gulps and asks, “For what?”

Raphael is playing with Tina, who’s now grabbed onto his finger in her sleep and is gripping it with her tiny baby hands. He keeps his gaze locked on her, pleased and fond smile all over his face. “For coming to visit me. I’m not angry at Isabelle, for sending me away, but it does get lonely.” He cuddles Tina closer, cooing quietly.

It’s true. Ever since Raphael left town, he’s been volunteering at different jobs, a cafeteria, a soup kitchen, and here.

He’s stoic as ever but he truly does love this place. It feels familiar. A half century spent under Camille meant dozens of fledglings, all ages of mundane but just born in vampirism. They’re chaotic, angry, confused. Raphael remembers feeling that way. And though babies don’t possess the same dangers, they still waddle around and look around at everything, just the way newly turned vampires do, consciously or unconsciously, in the Downworld. 

It’s really nice to have some kind of parallel, some semblance of sameness to his old life.

But it’s not always enough.

Raphael hadn’t had many people he’d consider to be “friends”, but he also hadn’t realize just how lonely it’d feel to be surrounded by different people in general, friends, acquaintances, even just people he’d see on the street.

He’s experienced it before, but it’s always impossible to imagine.

Magnus calls regularly, and visits plenty, and Raphael is so grateful for him.

What he never expected though, is for Simon to care so much.

He never expected Magnus to ask him if Simon could come with him one day to visit, and he certainly never expected Magnus to follow up saying that the boy had requested it himself.

He really,  _ really _ didn’t expect for Simon to start coming on his own in the following weeks, never thought he’d start volunteering at the same places Raphael does.

This is the first time Raphael has invited Simon to the preschool. He’s so glad he did.

Because Simon is smiling softly at everything and absentmindedly bobbing Caleb on his knee.

Raphael isn’t a fool. He knows Simon has been hurting, quite likely more than him currently.

But here, while Raphael sees the fledglings he used to help, Simon might see a bit of himself.

When Simon doesn’t respond to his remark with anything but a broad smile and a joking, “No problem, bro”, Raphael chuckles.

He hopes he can help Simon as much as Simon has helped him. Hopes his presence can be enough to heal a little bit, like Simon’s has in Raphael.

He deserves the world.

 

3\. Yarn

“You’re a grandma,” Simon says from the other armchair, not looking up from his own knitting project. Rebecca kicks him and he yelps. She doesn’t spare him a glance either. This scarf is made up of yarn that is far too cute to mess up a stitch on.

She blows out a sigh and starts a new row, color switching to green. “Shut up,” she finally says. “And you’re doing the same, anyway. So by that definition, you’re a grandma too.”

Simon nods sagely. “Since when did you become so wise and matter-of-fact? Does it come with being a grandma?”   
“Obviously not, as you didn’t gain that same wisdom,” she replies. “It comes with being me, and hence, being wonderful.”   
Simon snorts. Rebecca kicks him again.

She eventually sets her project down to look at her brother. He’s concentrated, knitting something in a  _ t-shirt _ pattern of all things. 

“So,” she starts, widening her legs across the armchair. She shifts, decides to throw her legs across the side of the armrest instead. Simon’s in a similar sprawl on his, aggressively wide lazy manspread half on the armrest, half on the seat, sinking down and down. “How’ve you been?”   
Simon tenses for a second but then relaxes. He finishes a stitch and places his needles and yarn on the table next to him. “I’ve been okay,” he says, smiling easily, eyes moving toward the ceiling. He grimaces for a second, but closes his eyes, smoothing out. “It's, uh, hard,” he finally decides. He knows his sister would rather know than not know, and Rebecca is ever so thankful that he is holding that in mind as he speaks. He laughs. breathlessly. “It's really hard. Especially after all that with Clary, right after doing that to Mom? I'm just, it's been-”

Rebecca clicks her tongue, cutting him off as she walks over to settle on the desk next to him, scooting his yarn project to the side. She holds his hand, tightly, shaking it as she says quietly, “Stop. None of this is your fault.  _ You _ did nothing to Mom except the right thing.”

Simon doesn't speak.

It's awful seeing this new side of her brother, one she's seen before but never so abundantly, one that talks less in a world that isn't so forgiving.

He finally sets his head on her bicep and sighs. “I know,” he shakes his head against her arm. “I don't. I haven't forgiven myself. I don't know if I can, I,” he stops, and Rebecca can hear the tears wavering in his throat. She closes an arm around him and he sighs, leaning into her, still so tense.

Strangely, Rebecca hopes he never lets go. Never relaxes, never loses the tightness in his body. She hopes this because she feels that with the world like the one her brother was hurled into, the only way one could truly be relaxed is to be defeated, and that is the last thing she wants for someone so vibrant, so energetic, so talkative, so wonderfully resilient and strong and  _ selfless _ .

It horrifies her that he's been becoming more selfless, once an annoying mundane boy who was loyal but not at the detriment of his own being.

She knocks her hip into his and he scoots, letting her sink into the armchair with him. She huddles him closely, makes sure not to let go as she wraps her other arm around him.

Rebecca is endlessly glad when he lets his tears out, let's himself shake. She doesn't know how long it's been since he hasn't held up a front for the sake of someone else.

Here, she's moved to tears at the sight of her younger brother letting himself experience emotion, openly, something he used to do so vividly and passionately and unapologetically; something so rare now.

She holds him and soothes fingers across his worn hoodie, whispers love and support to him as he barely listens but rises all the same. She's certain, as she's always been.

He deserves the world.

 

4.Snacks

Clary does a flying leap into the kitchen, raising her hips to skid her butt across the island, promptly knocking Simon off the counter and crashing into a cabinet.

“I want cookies!” she announces, sitting up perkily and kicking her legs.

Simon groans from the dirty, tiled floor. “You don’t have to beat me into the ground to get your cookies.” He straightens his glasses. “Also,” he says, perplexed. “This is a Chinese restaurant. What kind of cookies do you want?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“This is a  _ Chinese restaurant _ . Emphasis on  _ Chinese _ . And  _ restaurant _ .”

Clary sniffs. “Oh but my dear, what you don’t know is I’ve mastered the arts of having cookies at my every command.” She inhales loudly. “Behold!” Clary sweeps an arm towards where Simon is sprawled painfully against the cupboard door.

He raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”   
She rolls her eyes. “It’s in the drawer behind you. I swept you off the counter with  _ gracious aim _ , I’ll have you know.”   
“Sure, Jan,” he retorts, turning around and pulling out bags upon bags of Chips Ahoy, oreos, cheez-its, and marshmallows. “How much do you have stored in here?”   
“We visit Luke a lot. Go to the next cabinet. There’s graham crackers and chocolate. Ooh, and goldfish!”

Clary hops off the counter to help him, and they’re stacking all the snacks and discussing epic s’more building plans when Luke walks through the swinging doors. He stops, surveying the hoard of elementary school delicacies.

Eventually, he sighs, eyes refusing to lock onto the wide eyed fifth grader expressions Simon and Clary are surely sporting. “Really, guys? In the Jade Wolf? You stored your snacks in the Jade Wolf, where a bunch of macho males who have blood that runs strictly in toxic masculinity reside?”   
Simon pipes up. “Yes.”

Luke releases a heavy sigh after a moment, and turns to another cabinet. He reaches inside and dunks two containers of animal cookies on the counter, white frosting and rainbow sprinkles.

Clary and Simon  _ pounce _ in delight, sending snacks and containers careening off the counter in their frantic claiming of their loot.

Simon's cuddled on the counter top, arms and legs wrapped around the animal cookies protectively. “How dare you scold us while hiding the greatest snack of them all.”

Clary gasps. “Excuse you,  _ I'm _ the greatest snack of them all.”

Simon shrugs. “Okay, fair, but consider that I am dating  _ Maia Roberts _ .”

Clary pauses, nods sagely. “Point taken. Maia is definitely the greatest snack.”

Like groans and shoves them over to sit with them. “It's so weird to hear my kids talking like that about someone I mentored, stop it.”

Simon sticks out his tongue. He tosses Luke the marshmallows and screws open the animal cookies. 

Clary and Luke watch as he bites into one.

His face promptly distorts and he runs to the sink to spit it out and wash his mouth. 

He turns around, wiping his mouth, grinning sheepishly. “I forgot that everything tastes gross. You know, now that I.” He pops his fangs out and Clary and Luke immediately soften.

They come forward, hopping off the counter to hug him, and he relaxes under their arms. Too soon though, he pulls away, pushing them off him. “Chill,” he says, laughing. “I'm fine. And we have s'mores to make. There's no time to waste.”

He rushes forward between them to the counter, separating the s’more ingredients from the other snacks with quick movements.

Naturally, he knocks down a few other things in the process, yelping.

Clary steps up to the counter next to him on one side, and Luke on the other. She catches the aprons Luke tosses at them and gets to work helping Simon. “Are you sure? I mean, you can't even—”

Simon cuts her off, giving her a weird look before reaching into his inner jacket pocket and pulling out a bag of blood and a dropper. “Just because I’m a vampire now doesn't mean I’ve lost my hormonal teenager need to be eating at all times. I’m prepared, you know, Fray.”

Luke raises an eyebrow at him. “That has the Hunters’ Moon sticker on it.”

Simon flails. “Look, I have a very supportive girlfriend who understands my needs!”

They laugh at Simon’s expense and get to making their high class dishes, slipping into the family dynamic they've always had, the one thing they thankfully haven't lost in the war, the merging of worlds, the losses, and the reunions.

They pretend not to be upset at seeing Simon’s face changing the slightest bit when he microwaves his s’more separately, so that he can put blood in while the chocolate is melting.

They pretend not to want to cry, pretend to stay normal and and strong for him when in the first bite, he winces and immediately covers it up.

He brightens when he gets a bloodier bite, then folds up when he remembers what he's tasting that's so good to him.

It breaks Clary’s heart to see him like this. 

He's barely been a vampire for two years. She knows eventually, he'll be okay with himself and his needs, not react to himself with such disgust. The process is hard though.

She's his best friend, Luke’s other kid, and someone who, despite everything, has been there for them through thick and thin. Even when she wasn't there for him in return.

She hopes the world for him, hopes love and acceptance and no more bad things for him.

Please, no more bad things for her best friend.

Clary smooths a hand down Simon’s back, meeting eyes with Luke over his head as he turns to look at her.

They both know something that is unequivocally true.

He deserves the world.

 

5\. Vampires

Simon Lewis is watching  _ Twilight _ .

He is frowning profusely.

He remembers enjoying this. Remembers being obsessed with Edward Cullen’s sideburns and Taylor Lautner’s pretty face. Remembers being half in love with Bella.

But what the actual living pancake is this?

So it's been awhile since he's read the books or watched the series. But he doesn't remember the vampires being so… ridiculous.

Like yeah, they sparkle in the sun but—

Oh sweet Lilith  _ they sparkle in the sun. _

_ What kind of actual fuckery— _

Simon needs to take a second to clutch his forehead in peace.

Which was honestly a terrible decision, because  _ now _ he's thinking about all the other… inaccuracies, with  _ Twilight _ , books and movies.

Simon guesses he can give a little bit of slack because the series was written by mundanes, who likely have no idea that vampires actually exist…

Unless they were actually vampires. Or Downworlders, or Shadowhunters.

Actually, with the Clave’s lack of knowledge on everything except their Angel-bloodedness, that  _ is _ quite possible.

He can't stop laughing at Edward’s dick though.

His gigantic, powerful vampire cock that had so much strength it almost killed Bella and broke their bed.

Iconic. 

Simon is greatly relieved that sex did not get that wild when he became a vampire.

Everything else did kind of go to shit though.

He tilts his head back, breathing in. 

He has a bucket of popcorn and chips on his lap. Which is fine, but he also has a pouch next to him, shaped like a Capri-Sun, filled with red liquid.

Fun fact: Not only is blood thicker than water, it is also thicker than Capri-Sun.

Simon misses artificially flavored juice.

Simon misses a  _ lot _ , actually.

He misses school. He misses his glasses, with the tortoiseshell frames. He got a pair of non-prescription ones, just to get some sense of  _ old _ back. But he misses needing them, weirdly.

Because when you needed something to help you see, it was annoying but at least it showed,  _ hey, you’re aging, you’re alive, look at you evolve and devolve _ .

Simon  _ misses _ devolving.

At least Simon still has the sun, but he misses when that wasn’t a privilege. Wishes that others like him could have sunshine too.

He misses his mom.

And Simon used to hate focusing on himself because he thought it made him look like a brat, but god, he thinks he deserves his mom back.

He thinks that maybe, after all of this crap and everything going on and everything he’s done, that maybe, he deserves the world. For once. Or at least, to have the world back.

 

+1. Worlds

Simon locks his phone once more after checking Maia’s text again, tucking it in his back pocket. He pushes open the door to the Hunters’ Moon, and the little silver bell above him rings.

He smiles up at it, and walks in, pushing his hands into his pockets and looking around as he heads to the bar.

It’s empty. The entire place is empty. It’s so quiet too.

But Maia told him to come, so he takes a seat at the bar. 

“Maia?” Simon calls out, after a minute.

His phone pings, so he checks.

There’s a new text from Maia.

**duck protector** :  _ I know you’re really, really confused right now, and what’s gonna happen is really intense. But please. I have you, and if you need anything, need a break, just yell out, say so, call me, and I’ll be right there. _

So Simon decides to be perfectly honest.

**me** :  _ you’re scaring me. is this some kind of kink or roleplay?  _

**duck protector** :  _ Shut up and look up Simon. _

The door to the back clicks open and Simon looks up, hurriedly putting down his phone.

Which was a good decision because otherwise he would’ve dropped it.

“Mom?” he breathes, because he doesn’t know what else to say, what else to feel, what is even  _ happening _ right now.

His mom stands at the door, holding her hands together as if that’ll keep her together too.

She takes a tentative step forward, and when Simon doesn’t move back, she takes another. Elaine keeps going until she’s right in front of him, close enough to touch.

She sits on the stool next to him.

“Simon,” she starts at the same time Simon says, “What’re you-”

And they stop again.

Elaine takes a breath, and continues, eyes never straying from his. “I’ve heard things have been hard for you. And I know that much of it is my fault. I could never imagine…”

Simon shakes his head hurriedly. “No, Mom, none of it is. Just.” He pauses. “What? How? How, can you be here?”

Something in Elaine dies a little at the fact that though it’s been minutes, her son hasn’t reached forward, hasn’t attempted to touch her. Simon Lewis, so happy to hug. Never so careful in such a still way.

“Rebecca called me,” she finally says. “Said I needed to talk to you. I was quiet at first, then lashed out at her. You weren’t supposed to be alive. But she persisted, over and over, and then she brought me to meet Maia, Clary, and Luke. And then Raphael. Who all seemed so reluctant at first to talk to me, but things changed over days. And they convinced me to come here.

“I still don’t know how you’re here. I had to watch you walk in, had to brace myself so many times.” Finally, finally she reaches, taking his hands in hers, and finally, finally he really seems to look at her more. “But you’re  _ here _ ,” she says, choking on a barely there sob.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Simon speaks, but he can’t look away from her. He can’t remove his hands from hers. “There’s so much you don’t understand, you can’t-”

“Simon,  _ please _ .” She grips his hands tighter, impossibly. “You can explain later just,” she lets go to swipe hands across his face, feeling, remembering, holding on. “Let me have today with Simon Lewis.” She holds him, so tightly. “Whatever has happened to you, whatever you’ve done, whatever is going on, I will always love you. Every part of you, before, and after. Just please let me have some time with you before I know. Let yourself have some time with me before you worry about anything else. Please.”

Someone once told her, and she can’t remember who, but someone told her that he thought about how much he misses her. And that no matter where he ended up, he would never stop thinking about her.

Maybe this someone is the reason Simon gives in, the reason he submits himself to wracking sobs in her chest, leans forward and falls off his stool in favor of burying himself in his mother’s arms, something he hasn’t been able to do for far too long.

It ends up that Maia, Raphael, Rebecca, Clary, and Luke were waiting outside the whole time. And eventually, they carry a sobbed out, sleepy, full of love Simon home, tucked him into bed in the Lewis household.

No matter what happens next, he has his worlds.


End file.
